Master Potion Maker
by mandaree1
Summary: It wasn't very surprising, when you thought about it. Shaggy WAS the most street-smart of them when it came to magic. Why wouldn't he know how to do simple things like making potions? But simple had never really been simple, right?


**Disclaimer: I don't own Scooby Doo**

**Summary: It wasn't very surprising, when you thought about it. Shaggy WAS the most street-smart when it came to magic. Why wouldn't he know how to do simple stuff like potions? But simple had never really been simple, had it?**

**...**

Alright, so maybe the title 'Master Potion Maker' was a bit much. He didn't lug around a cauldron or spew witchcraft as random intervals. Honestly, he didn't understand a word of it, and any potions he did do were done with simple kitchen utensils. He was a novice, honestly. He left well enough alone... usually.

He flipped through the pages of the tome. Hey, what could he say? Velma was rubbing off on him.

Alright... that was a lie. Velma may have been the one to get him _into_ reading (which he _did_ do, whenever the urge hit), but he was the one who'd gotten himself interested in magic, and he'd soon found potions were his specialty. It was kind of like cooking, in a weird way.

Like now. He wasn't using some huge cauldron or dreary fireplace. He didn't have a magic broomstick or a creepy, secluded castle to experiment in. He had a book, the kitchen, and the few afternoons he got alone in the house. But that was plenty, especially since he wasn't really interested in it in the first place. It was handy, mind you, but it wasn't his thing. Cooking was his thing. Potions were not.

Like he said, he doesn't have a cauldron or cooking fire. He _did_, however, have a pot, stove, and wood spoon. He stirred the green liquid with the spoon, lowering the heat of the flame. Satisfied, he taped the spoon on the side of the pot and set it on the counter. There, now all it needs is a few more ingredients.

He idly read the labels on the chemical jars ('borrowed' from Velma's room. What? Where else was he going to get chemicals?) He didn't understand most of it's scientific nonsense, but he recognized the names and poured what he needed into the liquid. He'd put the rest back later.

It bubbled. Good, that's what it was supposed to do. Well, either that or explode.

Digging through his special, locked cupboards (filled with his most important and priceless foods), he pulled out the jar. Clearly labeled 'Sealed Dragon's Fire' he opened the lid, glanced inside. The special, fire-holding magic orbs (color-coded for their level of heat), held strong, but the fire sizzled just on the inside of the seal.

They were still good, fortunately. Eventually, the orbs gave way and the fire burned free if not taken care of properly. He _really_ didn't want to explain a random kitchen fire.

Taking the wood spoon, he gingerly set the jar on the counter next to the pot. He had to be careful, lest he wanted to burn a good portion of his body and the kitchen. He gulped. He carefully spooned an orb (one of the lighter ones) out, slowly lifted it over the pot.

Alright. He could do this. He'd done this a _million_ times, this one time wouldn't be any different.

Leaning back, he tilted the spoon to the side. The orb teetered, leaned, then fell into the green liquid with a_ plop_. The bubbles shifted, grew, then exploded in a rush.

Grabbing the spoon, he gingerly took a small sip. Perfect.

Smiling, he turned the stove off. Letting the mixture set, he dug through the cupboards. Pulling out four mugs, he set them down on the counter. Lifting the pot, he poured a cupful for each and every member. Taking a quick second to wash the pot, he opened the cupboard across from the utensils, grabbed a few packets of hot chocolate powder, then crossed back over to the counter.

Opening the packets, he poured just the right amount to cover the true nature of the potion but not enough to be overpowering, stirred it with a normal spoon. Grabbing the tray, he placed the cups onto the tray, then exited to the living room.

* * *

They were shaking.

Blankets on there hunched-backs, feet sitting in steaming buckets of water, icicles on there noses and chins.

"A-about t-time." Daphne shivered as he set the tray down, handed her the cup. "T-thanks Shaggy."

"No prob Daph." He handed the cups to the others members in turn. "Snow beast?"

Fred nodded, stretching his hands out in a rouch estimate. "H-huge one." He took a sip. The shivers stopped, the icicles began to melt. They all sighed, leaned back in their chairs. "Man Shag, you make the best hot coco."

"Homemade recipe." He smiled, pressing the tray against his thigh.

"One you'll eventually have to show us." Velma pointed out with a smile, eyes closed in comfort.

Shaggy turned and slunk back into the kitchen to wash the dishes (and hide the remains). Scooby glanced over at her cup, jumped, then tapped her on the shoulder. "Rade re?" He held out his cup.

"It's the _same_ thing." She grunted, then eyeing the insistent look, sighed. "_Oh_, what the heck. Here."

"Ranks." He smiled. He looked down at the cup. In the corner, the small green bubble floating in the darker colored chocolate, oblivious of the difference in shading. He stirred the circle away, took a big gulp. Shaggy was starting to slip.

Oh well, it wasn't like it was _that_ important if they found out about his little talent, right?

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